


satellites: the difference between us and the aliens

by hyperloop



Series: satellites [3]
Category: Original Work, Satellites - Fandom
Genre: I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING LONGER THAN MY AOT YAOI WHEN I WAS 13, I just realized, Other, Robots, but im listening to dubstep and i feel alright so here we go, garbage, hi ao3 is now my og work dump i know no one cares but i gotta store it somewhere, there's really nothing awful in this one so idk what to say here, woohoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 20:51:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperloop/pseuds/hyperloop
Summary: salem meets renegade again in a predictable clusterfuck. they go places and learn stuff. in essentially the same format as phantasmagoria. enjoy.





	satellites: the difference between us and the aliens

**Author's Note:**

> i named it after this song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFEBpDW-K7E which gave me the power the do this!! 
> 
> sorry for my humor deficiency i have depression
> 
> (pardon the beginning quote i legit couldnt think of something that wasnt excessively verbose)

Satellites: The Difference Between Us and the Aliens

 

“i'm leaving out the quote this time because it was really pretentious sounding” hyperloop 2k17

. . .

Another long day, another ride home. Rain thudded from atop the vehicle, and rivulets of it torrented visibly down the sides. Salem had his head pressed against the window of the bus, observing and thinking. Making observation on whatever happened to cross his frantic, scattered mind. Although, today was different. The rain was a sedative. His mind became foggy and one-tracked. Not a confusing, chaotic fog, but a sedative, all-consuming one. The window of the bus cooled his brain while giving him the feeling of a perpetual concussion with every vibrating movement. It was a pleasure.

2 months… It had been 2 months since everything changed for him. Cambria, he was, indeed, still well in contact with. That being said, he did feel as if they were in the process of parting. Naturally, of course. He felt as if his love was a flame in the wind, flickering, but above all, it prevails. Until the wind gets hurricane force. That shit’s just ridiculous.

Renegade was a memory. Salem thought about it on occasion. He wondered if it was real when it was just as easily surreal. A surreal dream. A dream that needed to happen out of 1 AM desperation. A dream that rescued him from his own disastrous malintent. Salem figured that if there was a deity watching over each and every one one of us (and he was certainly open to the possibility), Renegade was his deity or something more. It just felt so perfect. I mean, really, it could not have been in better timing. Salem needed a deity, and he needed one right then and there. The concept of a “guardian angel” has never felt so close.

Earlier that day, Salem had an intriguing conversation with his friend, Peter. Well, about as intriguing as lunchtime conversations in a bustling cafeteria can get. Salem’s eyes were in bags because he had stayed up until the wee hours the night before, either studying or on his phone, he didn’t recall. He rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He zoned out, the cacophony of the school cafeteria droning in his pool of thought. Breaking out of his daze, he glanced over at Peter. Peter was picking at some shit tier cafeteria pizza. Salem turned to him and spoke out of what felt like necessity as his words jumped out of his mouth. “Peter, do you believe in aliens?”

Peter was reasonably sophisticated guy, but because of Salem’s boldness and ever-so-slight superiority complex, this was a fact sometimes neglected. Salem, like most individuals, had a tendency to underestimate and predict the thought process of others. But when it comes to another intellectual soul such as himself, humans simply weren’t that predictable. “What’s it matter? Why should I give two shits about aliens anyway?” Peter responded.

Salem looked down at his food and shrugged his shoulders slightly. Peter was strange in his own ways, and surprising in many. Salem fidgeted, pinching his lips in his hands. “So… is that a no? That’s kinda dumb.” Salem cringed at his remark immediately after it left his mouth. How silly. He didn’t mean to insult Peter, he just had something else in mind. “I never said that. I just don’t think it’s important either way.” Peter said, gesturing at Salem. “...Why do you ask?” Inquired Peter, seeing as the conversation was going nowhere. “I just think people kinda should start thinking it’s important. Like, what if they think that we’re important? Heh, isn’t that a thought?” “Yea, I suppose it is. But they’re just aliens. I guess they could theoretically think about us, but what if they don’t think at all?” “Is that something you’re just willing to assume?” “Maybe… I don’t consider it that much. This isn’t something I just sit down and think about.” “Well, you could be right…” Salem thought about what Peter just said. They’re just aliens. He personally liked to believe otherwise. He personally liked to believe that what Renegade had told him was true. “There are plenty of other stars in the sky, and their love for you? A universal constant.” He just wasn’t sure what to believe.

The bus approached Salem’s stop, and he snapped out of his dreary flashback. He removed his head from the cooling window and wiped some drool out of the corners of his mouth. The bus stopped, he gathered his stuff, and stepped off. He walked to his house, slowly taking in heaves of air with every step. A warm rain was not only welcomed, but appreciated at the time. He looked up at the sky obstructed with clouds as he walked. The raindrops fell on his body, dampening his jacket and assaulting his glasses. He couldn’t seem to care. He knew his dad would, however. He knew he’d go inside and his father, if he was there, would ask him why he hadn’t brought an umbrella to school today. He couldn’t seem to care. Salem almost didn’t want to stop his walk to go inside, but figured on getting some work done when he got in. Or maybe messaging his friends back. One of the two.

There were no cars in the driveway when Salem got home. His dad must be out and about, preparing for their trip uptown to see Gale. Salem and his dad, on occasion, will go and visit the sister/daughter of the family, Gale. Just for a weekend. Salem wiggled his key in its appropriate hole and got in the house. He headed straight for his room, climbed upstairs, and bodyslammed his backpack onto the bed. After lying there mumbling mindlessly for a few minutes and listening to the rain hit the roof of the house, he crawled off the bed, opened his window shutters, didn’t bother turning the lights on, and stood in front of his mirror. He was obviously wet, and his glasses were beaded with droplets of water. He threw his jacket on the floor and cleaned his glasses off on his shirt, put them back on, and watched himself in the mirror. But then, without warning, he heard a tack tack tack at his window.

Startled, Salem looked out the window. There was nothing but gray sky in his immediate sight. “Spring showers, am I right?” He said to himself. Although… upon second glance, the rain seems to have ceased. Maybe he had just heard phantom noises with the pitter patter of the rain on his ceiling window, the work of his own mind trying to create a comforting environment for him. He ignored it and turned back to the mirror. He combed through his sodden, poorly bleached hair with his fingers. He removed his shoes and socks and gave up on the mirror, lying back on his bed again. He debated unlocking his phone, but then decided he didn’t want the burden of his online status. He decided to go downstairs and reheat some soup instead.

. . .

He carefully brought his bowl of soup upstairs with him. He sat in bed with caution, avoiding a soup related accident. He got comfortable with the warm food in his lap and began to think, as if he hadn’t already done enough of that on the ride home. What reasons did Peter have for being a skeptic? Do most people think that way? Is it possible to be so tragically mislead? But then, in a moment of playing devil’s advocate, Salem wondered about himself. What proof did he have? Yes, of course, he thinks the “misconception” of life beyond Earth is unfortunately selfish. Incredulity itself may very well be one of humanity’s most fatal flaws. But on the other hand, what if Salem had been played with or lied to? Manipulated by his own delusions? He thought. What would Renegade want? He thought. Would it want the world to know? To know that there is another force, there is something to believe in, and there is enough love to fill every leaky soul to ever exist? He just didn’t know!

Whatever. Fuck it. Moving on. He picked up his phone to check his messages. He unlocked it, when his thoughts were interrupted by a massive THUD. Did a bird fly into the window again? Stupid ass bird, there’s nothing in here for you, he thought. He gave a sigh of consideration and then figured he should peer out the window and check for dying birds, because why the hell not. He left his phone and his soup on the nightstand and got out of bed. He approached the window and put his hands up on the glass but he didn’t see anything. A frustrated grunt. He chose to open the window and, if nothing else, get a breath of fresh air. He wandered onto the roof and took a deep breath in, and sat down on his knees. He looked up at the still gray sky, and down. And up again. But this time, when he looked down, he found himself face to face with a humanesque portmanteau of flesh and scrap metal.

Salem screeched out and clumsily jumped back on his legs out of instinct. “Ren???” He wasn’t quite sure why it was even a question; he didn’t know anyone or anything else with glistening silver hair, eyes that glowed a magenta aura, and a face half metallic. “Salem.” Renegade said, as it pulled itself up to the roof with him.

To be frank, Salem didn’t really know what to do. What’s the social protocol here? A hug? A firm handshake? Brofist? A fatherly pat on the back? Fortunately, Renegade itself broke the awkwardness before it had a chance to build up. It walked into the attic through the open window Salem had used to get out. It plopped itself down on Salem’s bed. “Ah, yes, make yourself comfortable.” Salem, still not knowing how exactly to handle this, sat on the floor with his legs crossed. He looked at Renegade. It was wearing the clothes that he gave it months ago! “You’re wearing the clothes I gave you months ago!” Renegade smoothed out its hoodie. “Oh, yes, they’re very nice. Thank you.”

“So, I see you’ve made a much smoother landing this time. Can I ask you something, Ren? Why did you leave? Like, last time?” Renegade looked down and then glanced off to the right, then back down again. “My arm was falling off.” Renegade replied. “What? Really? You think I would’ve cared about your arm falling off?” “Well, you seemed pretty disgusted by the whole ‘half a face’ thing.” “Yes, the face thing was kinda grotesque. But I got over it. Ren, I want to know more about you.” “Come here, I’ll show you my arm.” Salem climbed up off of his legs and stumbled onto his bed from the pins and needles having been sat on, and he regained feeling in them.

He sat on the bed, but his heart quickened in pace. His mouth grew dryer. A wave of sweat came over him and he felt his nerves vibrate in every nook of his body. Becoming very aware that his heart was pulsating noticeably through his shirt, he took in a deep breath to calm himself and slouched a bit. He was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings that he didn’t know if he wanted. He hadn’t felt this way caused by the presence of someone (or something…) else since he was a younger teenager. He took another breath in and grinned. He was going to convince himself that he was okay. Renegade pulled up the sleeve of its oversized hoodie up to the shoulder of its right arm. Revealed now was a mechanical arm resembling that of a human. It appeared to be made of the same material as the right part of Renegade’s face. A dull-ish metal that looked tough, yet flexible. “I took a rough landing when I got here, as you may have guessed… at some point, my arm made a ‘pop’ noise and I knew it was getting ready to fall off… I’m sorry I left…” Renegade toyed with its arm as it spoke, swinging the elbow, rotating the wrist, wiggling the fingers. Fully functional. Impressive.

“Can I touch you?” Salem asked, in an act of spontaneity.

“Sure.” Renegade casually replied.

Renegade reached its arm over to Salem. Salem stared at it and slowly, slowly, carefully moved his hand towards it. He gently touched and grabbed where the bicep is, er, would be. Salem’s body was completely still and silent. With all of his focus, he channeled every sense he had control of to his fingertips and grazed down Renegade’s arm with it. Touching, feeling, observing. He moved his hand down to Renegade’s hand. He stroked his fingers over its palm like it was the only thing that mattered, and to him, it was. Renegade put its thumb on Salem’s hand to keep it still for a second and brought their hands upward. Salem and Renegade spread their hands up against one another’s. Salem’s hand was smaller than Renegade’s, although a bit chubbier. Renegade’s long fingers outreached Salem’s by about half an inch. Fumbling with each other, Salem shifted his hand and put his fingers between Renegade’s, grasping and combining them. Their intertwined digits were easily one of Salem’s most intimate experiences. Renegade’s grasp was cool and refreshing in contrast to Salem’s warmth. It was just what he needed. In that moment, he realized, he didn’t need to convince himself that he was okay anymore. Salem was fine. Salem was wonderful. He had all he needed to realize in his hand, right now.

Salem’s grasp was unyielding, but hadn’t enough pressure to hurt or alarm the robot. He gripped its hand and then a big toothy smile grew on his face. He giggled. In the heat of the moment he wished he could hold on to Renegade forever, just like that. He felt safe. He felt guarded. He loved knowing that he could let go, and nothing bad would happen. So he did. He let go and then he looked at his own hand, then back at Renegade’s. He looked like he couldn’t believe what he had just done, and in a way, he couldn’t. Salem licked his lips and raised his hand up to touch Renegade’s glossy silver hair. He moved slowly, and looked Renegade in the eyes, half expecting it to signal for him to stop, but it didn’t happen. Touching Renegade’s hair was like touching fiber optic hairs, thin, wiry, and soft. It gave in to his touch gladly, moving cooperatively as he stroked it. He picked up a few strands of it between his fingertips and rubbed them, memorizing how it felt to him. He moved some of Renegade’s bangs on the side, trying to push them behind its right ear to expose more of its face. And he did. In doing so, he revealed a vertical ovoid shape on its forehead.

“Mmm, Ren, what’s this?” He said, gesturing to the shape with his finger. Renegade covered the shape with its hand, as if it was something worth hiding. It looked at its hand. “I’m not exactly sure.” “Has it always been with you?” “I don’t know. I don’t see myself very much.” Salem silently wondered why that was. He laid down and rested his head gently on Renegade’s chest. He felt something of surprise at first, almost expecting to hear a heartbeat but alas, there was none. He tuned his ears in so he could listen to see if his friend gave off any noise at all. He never imagined what it would be like to rest his head on someone’s chest and not hear anything. Creepy, no? But he kept listening, for something, anything. In a moment of complete quietude, he heard a mechanical whirring. Before he knew it, that whirring felt like home to him. He could fall asleep to it every night, and wake up to it over and over again. This wasn’t human, it was Renegade’s heartbeat.

He wanted to ask something about it, maybe something from earlier, but he forgot.

Oh well.

“Ren, I want you to take me somewhere. Somewhere with you. It can be home, it can far far away from home. I wanna go somewhere with you. Somewhere close to you? I don’t know. Take me with you.” Salem spoke calmly but in desperate nature, still listening to Renegade’s internal processes. “Where do you want to be?” Said Renegade. Wow, what a question. Truth be told, Salem didn’t know how to answer.

“I have… access to many, many places. An interminable amount, as a matter of fact.” “Oh? Maybe something simple. You can blow my mind next time.” “I suppose I can do that for you. Now?” “I’m ready!” Salem said enthusiastically, picking his head up to look at the robot. Renegade sat up, bumping Salem off. It got off of the bed, leaving Salem. “Follow me.” It said, pointing out the window.

Salem stumbled off of the bed and tried to gain his balance. He threw on his jacket and headed out the window and onto the roof with Renegade. “Okay, let’s do this. What now?” Salem honestly had no clue what to expect but he felt as if he was prepared for anything akin to an “adventure” of sorts with Renegade. “Now I have to carry you.” Salem’s eyes widened. Suddenly he felt unsure. Salem was not a light person. Renegade looked fragile. “Is that okay by you?” “Yea, that’s fine. If you can do it, I mean I--” Before Salem could finish his sentence, he found himself swept off of his feet, being carried bridal style by Renegade. The large robot made it look effortless, his legs dangling over the robotic arm, and a surge of adrenaline pumped through his body. He felt giddy, but he felt secure. He was ready. “Don’t worry, this will only hurt a little.” Said Renegade. “Wait, what?” But before Salem could mutter anything else, Renegade launched into the air with a powerful leap in its legs.

As the two of them were tossed up into the air, as they were about to make a landing back down to Earth, Renegade’s feet were no longer feet. They shapeshifted into stubs. A deep purple substance that, in Salem’s mind, could only be equated to flame, bursted out of the stubs. A resonant roar from below resulted. They were still in the air as the forces met, still, and then up. Up they went, accelerating rapidly. Salem’s stomach felt like it was a shaken soda, and his hair flapped about in the wind. Holding onto Renegade with nothing short of a death grip, he felt somewhere between completely lifeless and never having been more alive in his life. Granted, shooting upwards at 10s, maybe 100s of miles per hour, it was difficult to tell. “Don’t look down, don’t look down…” He repeated a mantra in his head to try and dispel his fears. He knew Renegade wouldn’t let go of him, but looking down certainly didn’t ease his anxieties. He almost expected a smoke trail to follow after Renegade’s “feet”, but there was no trail. Just that purple glow emanating from underneath them. He looked at Renegade’s face with the eyes that were pulled open from the wind. It looked pensive, eyes wide open. What could Ren possibly be reflecting on in a time like this, cutting through space? Where is space, anyway? He figured they’ve got to be approaching it soon. Abruptly, Renegade closed its eyes. Salem took that as a sign that he likely should as well. Salem winced his eyes shut, in perfect timing too, and he started to feel a certain pressure building up on them. They got faster and faster until they couldn’t go any further, and then whiteness. White shine speckled all through Salem’s vision in spite of his eyes forced shut. His bones screamed. He felt like his skull was going to crack clean in half, when instantly, he felt it. He felt, he HEARD a crack and the pressure started to build down. The white that assaulted him began to fade from his vision. They slowed down just as fast as they had originally accelerated, and eventually came to a hard stop on what felt like solid land. Salem didn’t immediately open his eyes. He laid on the ground, rubbing his temples, when he finally decided he was ready. He opened his eyes, seeing double of Renegade hovering above him, focusing on his face as if the robot was reading his soul. “Am I dead?” He grumbled, in a guttural husk.

“Well, not quite, but I see that interplanar translocation isn’t for everyone.” Salem moaned some more and wriggled on the hard ground. He closed his eyes again and massaged his eyelids under his glasses with his fingers before opening them once again. Renegade stood up, leaving Salem on the ground next to it. Renegade appeared enormous standing up next to him. The sky was gray, not blue or white or black, but it still hurt to look at. He squinted up, Renegade had already shifted back to its normal state, and offered its hand down to help him up. Salem reached up and grabbed its hand and it pulled him up to his feet. Balancing on his feet, he continued to squint but tried to get ahold of his surroundings. He felt like he was somewhere he’d been before, frustratingly enough, he couldn't figure it out. “Let’s walk, shall we?” Renegade offered. They walked through a brief alley, Salem looking back and forth, walking behind Renegade. On the other side, Salem made the overdue connection. “Ren, where are we?” “Have a look, does it seem familiar?”

And as a matter of fact, it did. Looking upwards again, Salem noticed he was surrounded by large metal plated buildings that looked like they would have shone in the sun. Some of which he could identify, some he couldn’t. He took a breath in, the air was crisp and soothingly cool. He made note of the texture under his bare feet, it was rough and moist, and perhaps pebbly. He somewhat regretted not bringing his shoes, but that simply wasn’t something he was willing to worry about. The road lead on until it brought you to the center of the city, which had an ostentatious fountain sculpture in the middle that glowed a rainbow in the darkness of night. The present sound of the fountain gurgling and splashing drew him back into the conversation. “This is your home. In the near future.” Renegade said, walking with him. “Where is everyone? Did something happen?” “No. I decided I wouldn't subject you to anything extreme. I went to a parallel and filtered all human life.” Salem laughed but decided not to question it. “Wow, I wish I could do that.” He said.

It was clearly daytime but the day wasn’t clear. In fact, it grew darker. Salem felt something wet drop in his hair. And then through the sleeves on his jacket. He looked up once more. A raindrop hit him directly in the glasses, and he quickly became irritated. As the hit of the drops became more frequent, he pulled his hood over his head to protect his hair. He turned to look at the robot standing behind him. “Geez, Ren, you wouldn’t think that-- Ren? What’s wrong?”

Renegade had a blank stare on its face. It was walking slower than it had been. Its mouth slightly agape, it gazed on into the sky, with an unnerving mien. The rain grew a tad heavier. A particularly thick drop plopped Renegade in the nose. It covered its eyes with its hands, and wiggled, making noises of distress. Salem took a good guess and supposed that Renegade didn’t really enjoy the rain like he did. Salem peered back and forth. “Follow me!” He said, turning and running backwards and hearing Renegade’s clunky step behind him. He spontaneously looked for shelter from the rain, when in impeccable timing, he found a building with a big glass canopy held up by reflective metal bars. He kept running until he no longer felt the rain on his back, and put his legs out for quick stop. He rested his back on the side of the building, put his hands on his knees, and panted loudly. It was unfortunate times like these that reminded him he really wasn’t fit for this kind of activity. Renegade stood next to him. He worried that Renegade may have been watching him, judging him for the heavy breather he needed to take for their short run, but no. It was facing upwards, watching the droplets of water splash down onto the see through canopy.

“What’s the matter?” “I just… I don’t… I…” “It’s okay, Ren.” Salem stepped back up and looked around. To the right of him, there was an entrance to the building that gave them the shelter. On each side of the doors there was a miniature statue of two upper-class looking women smiling with their hands up, probably waving. A thin object rested on the side of the one. Salem went to go investigate. He got closer to it and squinted. “Is that what I think it is?” He thought. He got closer and discovered that it was, in fact, what he thought it was! It was a closed light blue umbrella. How convenient!

“Hey Ren, check this out!” Salem swung the umbrella about. He walked toward Renegade and stood in front of it. He held the umbrella out ahead of them and it bounced open, after which he held it up with pride. He approached the edge of the canopy and gazed out past the sheet of rain that was falling in front of his face. Renegade uneasily followed his back. “Come on, let’s keep walking. The rain isn’t scary. I promise it won’t hurt you.” Salem was a boy with fears and anxieties of his own. Sure, he wasn’t in the business of curing anyone of theirs. But a little friendly encouragement sure as hell never hurt.

Renegade didn’t say anything, for it didn’t quite know how to come about the situation. It got closer to Salem. “Okay.” It whimpered, in a hushed tone. Renegade stood VERY VERY close to Salem. Salem could feel the poor robot rubbing on his back, with its head inches above his, but he didn’t say anything about it, except “Stay with me.” And with that, they stepped out into the rain with the umbrella shielding them.

The water from above splattered onto the umbrella atop them. Salem sauntered along at first, giving Renegade time to relax. Eventually it stopped appearing so uptight. It looked a little looser, its fists unclenched a bit. It looked everywhere, up and down, back and forth, taking in its surroundings. Salem was quiet, listening to the hiss of the rain, feeling the wet ground under his feet. He looked ahead at the silent city he knew so well. He knew where to go. After marching on with the umbrella and Renegade following closely behind, he pointed ahead. “Ren, let’s go over there, my arm is getting tired.” He was pointing at a swingset with an overhead gazebo that he recognized to be part of the newly founded city nature preserve, an area of greenery with playsets that was animal friendly. He headed up the grassy incline to get there, with the soft ground caving underfoot. He stepped onto the mulch of the swingset ground. Next to it was concrete, with shiny metal tables on it sheltered by the gazebo. The wet mulch stuck to his feet, but it wasn’t something he was willing to get worked up about. He looked at Renegade who was looking up at the gazebo canopy, distracted with whatever it may be. Salem closed the umbrella and leaned it against one of the tables. He put his hood down, walked over, and sat down on one of the swings.

Kicking his feet up, Salem propelled himself just shy of a foot into the air and be swung back and forth like a beating pendulum. Renegade took note of what he was doing, and hesitantly sat on the swing next to him, watching him, being still. It sat on the swing, looking onto the city through the layers of rain, and then looked at Salem, who seemed to be enjoying himself. The swing squeaked as Salem went up and down between their silence.

“Thanks for taking me out here, I suppose the rain is not as scary as I think it is.” Renegade finally spoke up. Salem slowed the pace of his swing to talk better. “Oh, yea, don’t mention it. I have always loved the weather that some consider to be ‘bad’. Since I was a kiddo, actually.” “Really? How long have you remembered rain?” Salem’s swing steadily came to a halt at the strange question. “Ah, well, I’m… Err, not quite sure. I mean… Like, there was a time where I was scared of thunderstorms as well. And, like, heavy rain. My dad brought me outside in some heavy rain once, he told me the sound of rain was the Earth whispering to me about how happy she is to have a friend like me. And the claps of thunder, the Earth applauding me for my choice to be with her tonight. And that the Earth wept for me when I was scared of her affection. I don’t know, it’s kind of funny looking back. And it doesn’t make a lot of sense. But yes, I have found, like, calmness in the rain ever since.” Renegade perked up. “It makes sense.” Salem exhaled loudly. After another moment of speechlessness, more questions arose. Salem realized that he hardly knew anything more about Renegade than he had known when they first met. Which was pretty much nothing. He finally got Renegade in a situation where, most likely, its body won’t fall apart to their dismay. The time has come.

“But, enough of me. You know enough about me. I want to know more about you, Ren. Where are you from? How did you get here? What do you know about me? Why do I feel compelled to tell you everything??” He interrogated. “I can’t really say.” “Well why the hell not?!? It’s okay, Ren. You can trust me.” Renegade looked off into the distance again. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be all frustrated with you. It’s just, like, when you know so much about me and I don’t know shit about you, it gets frustrating. I’m really interested.” Renegade opened its mouth to speak, stopped for a second, and closed it again, peering down at its feet in the dead space between their words. “I was never like the others,” It spoke. “I was a peculiar case. They told me I was different, but no one ever bothered to tell me why. The day I started to question if there was a simpler life form beyond was the day others started to wonder. And the day I wanted to empathize with them was the day I was ridiculed for it. Yes, we knew you all existed. But we never thought about it. We weren’t supposed to. We looked at you like the puny inferiors you were, and that was it. We aren’t taught to entertain the ideas of complexity beyond what we’re already familiar with. But I was different. I believe I was made for a different kind of life. I wanted to protect. I wanted to feel. So I told them all that I would. I loved humans so much, it hurt me so bad to learn that some of them didn’t love themselves. I loved their design, I loved their intentions, I loved their affection and the ways they showed it. I wanted to learn everything I possibly could, and to my kind, that was grounds for something wrong. My own kind told me I was defective for being soft-hearted to another kind. That I knew things that no one was supposed to know. ‘Renegade!’, they called me. ‘It’s a renegade!’, they said. And that moment was the one where I knew… I knew I wanted to do things differently.”

Salem glanced over at Renegade, its eyes a glowing portal to another world. He noticed the bot was shaking gently, a fixed vibration set upon it. In Renegade’s speech, he hadn’t noticed that the rain had come to a stop and petrichor pervaded throughout. Renegade stood up from the swing and moved forward. Salem dragged his feet on the ground to stop himself and stood up behind it. “I, that’s, I mean, like, wow, hmm…” Salem said abruptly. But Renegade walked forward out past the gazebo and towards the city again, which was now blanketed by thin fog and scattered puddles. Salem jogged to catch up to it, but it kept walking.

It had its face shown to the ground, pointed down as it walked. Renegade gave him so many questions and with every answer it gave, he felt like he knew less. In spite of this, words he knew couldn’t simply describe the feelings that Renegade gave him. The good, the bad, the odd neutral. When he looked ahead at Renegade, he noticed it had its hands on it face and was shifting back and forth. “Ren! What’s wrong??” He called, chasing after it. “Are you in pain?? It sure looks like it!” Renegade avoided eye contact. “Salem, I must leave for now. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” “Can you tell me if there’s something upsetting you?” He said firmly. Renegade didn’t answer. It walked onward, with increasing pace. With haste, Salem looked all around to find whatever might have hurt Renegade. There was something getting in his way, and he wanted to destroy it. Despite his vicious mental back and forth, all that stuck to his mind was a puddle near his feet and his own enraged, anxious reflection staring back at him. “Ren! Come back!” He screamed. He ran in the general direction he last saw Renegade, he didn’t see anything but heard a roar from above. When he looked up, he saw a rocket shooting straight upwards. When he noticed the rocket had left no smoke trail but a purple flare, he knew what it really was. “Ren! Please don’t leave me here! Come back!” He screamed until his throat ached. Did Renegade just leave him alone on another plane of existence from which he hadn’t a clue how to escape? What the fuck? As he looked up at Renegade in the sky, he grew weary and his senses began to fade into nothing. He found himself very sleepy. His head still shook from his desperate vocalizing. He gracefully collapsed onto his knees, and then laid on his side on the wet ground, suddenly unable to care or try. He heard a ringing that may have been the city sirens, or may have been completely imagined. He couldn’t tell, and frankly didn’t care to know. And with a deafening crack and boom, everything turned black.

. . .

“Dude, get up, we’re going to Gale’s, remember? Also, I brought pickle chips. Mmm!” Salem awoke to the energetic sounds of his father’s voice. Shit. PICKLE CHIPS. GOD YES. Time to get up. “Oh, yea, sorry, I’m almost ready.” His dad headed back downstairs. Salem sat up in his bed, when memories of earlier punched him in the gut. He saw Renegade again. He knew that much. They went to another place using intersomething transwhatever, which really did not feel good. They sat down and talked about… stuff… and then the rest is history. His head ached when he tried to recall, as if he wasn’t supposed to think about it. Peculiar.

He came to the sudden realization that his glasses were still on his face. He would never sleep with his glasses on, for fear of breaking them, being forced into a more expensive alternative for his poor eyesight. Implying, if you will, that someone else had left him in bed. He looked to the side on his nightstand, there was a bowl full of cold noodle soup and his phone. Despite having not eaten, he didn’t feel hungry. He picked up his phone and figured he’d finally check it. Crap, look at the time, he doesn’t HAVE time for this tomfoolery! He must pack up to see Gale before she and his dad get upset. Tossing his phone on his bed, he got up and walked to his mirror. His hair was ruffled, messy and damp. He looked up at his ceiling window to see that it was raining softly once again. The rainwater ran down the window and the roof and the sound of flowing water kept his thoughts aligned. His jacket was already on. He put some things he needed for a weekend in his backpack, zipped it up, grabbed his phone, turned his lights out, and brought it downstairs, along with some dishes in his room. His dad was outside, loading stuff into the car, waiting for him. Salem put his hood up to keep his hair from getting any messier, walked to the car, and sat in the back seat (which he preferred to do, for whatever reasons) throwing his backpack in with him.

“You look tired there, kid. Is everything okay?” “Mmm, yea, just, like, tired I guess.” “Aw, hopefully you can rest on the ride there.” “Mhm.” Salem’s dad locked up the house and hopped back in the car, and pulled out. They drove by their home city, but Salem saw it in a different light. A structurally different, metal plated light. He flashed back to what happened earlier, and the rain picked up. His eyelids and thoughts grew heavy. He closed his eyes and let the murmur of the rain and the car allow the dark to consume him once again.

. . .

A cool sensation touched onto Salem’s face as he shook himself awake. Out spoke an enlightening voice. “Hey, get up, doofus, you’re here.” It said. “Mmm, oh, hey… Sorry I’m just, bleugh…” “Tired? It is that kind of rainy Friday.” “Yea, I guess so.” Salem’s muscles ached with relief as he stretched out as far as he could in the car seat, and smacked the sleepy taste out of his mouth with his lips. “Get up, I’ll even bring your bag in.” Salem took her hand and stepped out of the car. It wasn’t raining anymore, but it had gotten dark and mist has set around them, the sky above the city luminous with moisture as he realized how happy he was to be with Gale and how he’ll be lounging on the couch, eating pickle chips soon enough.

Gale had a height advantage over Salem by a few inches. Her hair was naturally wavy and a shade of dirty blonde, going down to her neck. Her eyes were a gorgeous blue with flecks of yellow that she inherited from her mother, and she had a voice almost notably deeper than most. She had her own issue, not dissimilar to Salem’s nearsightedness, for which she uses contacts, the latest of eyesight enhancing technology. She had freckles, not on her face, but speckling her shoulders and arms. She lifted Salem’s bag out of the car without struggle, and he followed after. They went into her apartment and Gale dropped his stuff in the guest room, which she preferred to think of as Salem’s designated visiting room. He just plopped himself right on the couch by the television that was built into the wall, and turned it on to find some documentary.

Gale tossed a bag of pickle chips at him. “Aw yes, thank you!!” He exclaimed, opening the bag. The delightful sour smell made his mouth water. The chips melted in his mouth and he munched on them until he allowed his exhaustion to take over as he drifted in and out on the couch in a deadly pickle chip induced coma. At one point, he awoke to the sound of Gale coming in the room to rummage around in the kitchen. She put something in the microwave. He looked at her and noticed that she had her hair tied back in a ponytail and her spare glasses on as she did on sleepless nights. He didn’t know what time it was after drifting so much, and never bothered to check. He also figured that his dad was either passed out somewhere else around the place, or out and about with no obvious intention of returning soon. “Whatcha watchin’ there, kid?” Gale said, after noticing that he was awake and alert.

“It’s a documentary about some war back in the days. Did you know that the Meuse-Argonne Offensive is the bloodiest battle in American history?”

“Hm, nope. Interesting stuff.” She said, sitting down on the lounge chair next to his couch with a microwaved sandwich.

He sat up on the couch, blinking heavily. He knew well that it was about time he went to bed, like, for real. But something was wrong. Well, maybe not necessarily wrong, but something was empty. He glanced over at Gale, who had her baggy unmindful eyes fixed on the television, taking an occasional bite. He sighed quietly.

“Gale, have you ever met someone who was different from you in every way, but you felt… uh... connected to them like with no one else?” Yea, you could say he had something to get off of his chest.

“Yes, I suppose I have at some point. Is something or someone on your mind?”

Salem didn’t want to tell anyone about Renegade. He didn’t quite know why, but felt as if he was forbidden from doing so. And he didn’t want to ask too many questions to one single person. He considered Renegade an unspoken secret. But there’s no harm in beating around the bush, right?

“I guess. Kinda. Maybe. But I don’t need to talk about it. I need to hear someone else talk about it for once.” “Ah, well, they always say that opposites attract. There is some logic to it. There used to be a guy at Wow Chow, remember when I worked there? He would talk to the customers. He would engage them. One time he spilled some cheese dip on a table while the people were there. You know what he did? He laughed. And then he cleaned it up. My god, I would have DIED. He was agreeable and outgoing. My closest coworker at the time used to tell me all the time how annoying he was, and I would reluctantly agree. I realized on some other sleepless night years perhaps after I quit at Wow Chow that he confused me because he was everything that I wasn’t. It was somehow alluring and appalling. I think when you meet someone who is vastly different from yourself, it creates a sort of dichotomy. You start to assess yourself and your own traits. You take a bit of what they give you with you, and you use it to improve yourself. You carry a little bit of everyone that’s important to you. Somehow, the works of others can be the thing that makes you the most unique.”

“Did you like him?” Salem asked, after a moment of silence. Gale laughed. “I don’t know. Like I said, alluring and appalling. I was obviously irritated with him but in the few genuine interactions we had, he seemed like a swell guy. Someone I could’ve gotten acquainted with.”

Salem didn’t respond at first, perhaps because he was half asleep. He didn’t realize how tired he was until Gale gave him some words to actually focus on, and when he did, they blew his mind. He was so so close to sharing his story about his robot friend with Gale, but he still felt as if he’d be breaking a bond.

“That’s actually really nice. I think I’m gonna… hmm… go to bed now. I’m super tired. Thank you.” “You look it, kiddo. Get some rest.” She took another bite of her sandwich. Salem sat up and crumpled snack bags fell off of his lap, which he then threw in the garbage before staggering down the hall into his bed. He was too tired for his mouthwash, or pretty much any other conventional form of self care. He undressed and put on a cozy oversized hoodie and fell into bed, where he could hardly keep his eyes open. One final thought had the audacity to pop into his head before he drifted off again. He should check his messages which he’s been neglecting to do all day, right? And so he did. There were messages from Peter and from Cambria. Fucking Peter can wait, he thought. He opened Cambria’s message.

[3:46 PM] circuit: salem! how’s it hangin? everything going well? i wanna talk when we can. but i know you’re probably busy or taking a nap right now or something. let me know when you’ve got time

[7:08 PM] circuit: uh salem?????

[1:57 AM] circuit: i’m sorry. i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to upset you. we don’t have to talk.

Salem squinted at the girl’s esoteric message, but soon, that was the last thing he knew before his eyes fell closed. He never fell asleep so quickly in beds that weren’t his, they felt alien to him. But who’s to say that alien is a scary thing? He dropped his phone in front of his face, sighed, and rolled over, as he let the ticking of time and the sounds of the nearby city at night to lull him to sleep. Maybe the difference between us and the aliens is really our own faults colliding to better one another?

**Author's Note:**

> https://twitter.com/cornplextro
> 
> http://brokentransmission.tumblr.com
> 
> follow me on these places and tell me your love me. well, unless you don't want to, but it means a lot. xoxo


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